


Magical Magnus

by LoverOfWriting



Series: Magical Magnus [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Healing, Love, M/M, Malec, Trust, new life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 07:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14744621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoverOfWriting/pseuds/LoverOfWriting
Summary: After being stabbed in the heart by his demon-possessed parabatai, Alec needs lots of healing and resting, so his family and friends will do anything to help.On his side, Magnus has to deal with the loss of his magic and face his new life.Will Malec survive this new, unexpected turn of their fate?





	Magical Magnus

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, loves! This is a coda (yes, another one) to season 3A finale. Since we got a heartbreaking cliffhanger, I thought I could make the wait a bit more bearable, imagining what we could find in 3B.
> 
> Many of you know that I'm adapting myself to a new phase in my life, which is taking a big toll in my health and mind (thank you, my sweet parabatai Karin, for your endless support!)
> 
> So, writing this short multi-chaptered fic is a kind of catharsis for me. I hope you understand <3
> 
> Also, it's not betaed. Be nice, please? ;-)

The door to his loft slammed shut after Magnus, his arms already hampered by several paper bags from the nearby supermarket. The former warlock sighed wearily. He had been so used to have everything silently done with his magic, that even that simple gesture seemed a feat these days.

  
His ankle pulsing angrily hot, his head throbbing wildly, he limped straight to the kitchen , left the shopping bags carelessly on the counter top, and taking a bottle of wine from the cupboards, poured himself a good measure in an ornate Bohemian cup, which he gulped down at once.

  
He set the empty cup on the counter with a tad more of energy than he intended, the wine sending a dizzy feeling to his now human head. His jeweled fingers knocked down on of the bags, spilling its content, oranges and apples, all over the kitchen floor.

  
Magnus stared at the rolling pieces of fruit in despair and swore loudly, sweeping the guilty cup off the counter with the flat of his hand, in anger. The cup crashed against the cupboard, scattering a million tiny, flying pieces around the room.

  
Magnus looked around him with a helpless feeling; a feeling that, during those last two days, since he gave up his magic, had become more and more familiar to him. He wondered where on Earth did he keep a broom. And whether he actually had a broom.

  
He bumped his fist on the marble top and yelped in pain. A little piece of broken glass was stuck in the side of his hand, from which the blood started to bleed.

  
Being human sucked. Big time.

  
He tried to take the piece out with two of his fingernails, but the glass piece was too small.

  
“Shit!”

  
“Here”. A female voice said. “Give me that hand.”

  
Maryse. He had forgotten that Maryse was there, intent on nursing his boy while recovering from his near death experience.

  
Magnus stretched his arm out, hesitantly, and Maryse took his hand, resolute and firm. She turned the faucet open and put Magnus’ bleeding hand under the running cold water. Then she gave him a clean kitchen towel (dammit, she already knew better than Magnus where all the home stuff was kept!).

  
“Sit”. She ordered him, not unkindly. All those years as the Head of New York Institute couldn’t be erased along with the deruning. She lifted a warning finger so Magnus wouldn’t move, and left the kitchen.

  
Magnus sat bemused on one of his kitchen stool and waited. He felt so low-spirited that he didn’t even think of disobeying the woman. In less than a minute, thought, Maryse was back with a little metallic tool in her hand.

  
“What’s that?” Magnus narrowed his eyes at the pointy object.

  
“Tweezers.” She clarified, showing them to him. “Obviously. Do you have any alcohol?”

  
“How can you doubt it?” Magnus scoffed, picking at his wound again. “In that cupboard.” He pointed at the piece of furniture with his chin. “It’s a good idea, actually. A drink would do me good right now.”

  
“Stop it, Magnus. God, you’re worse than a teenager Jace.“ She sighed, irritated. “A cleaning alcohol would be fitter to disinfect wounds. I’m sure you have that kind as well.” She said ironically.

  
“In my lab.” Magnus yielded.

  
“Oh, I don’t have time for rummaging among your working stuff.” She opened another cupboard and picked up a bottle of brandy. She poured it generously on the tweezers.

  
“Hey! That bottle is almost as old as I am!” Magnus protested in disbelief.

  
“Then it’s time to put it to good use. Give me your hand.” She asked again.

  
Magnus refrained his need of pouting (that would work with Alec, but surely not with his mom), and obeyed her. Again.

  
If, two months ago, someone would have even hinted that he would be lamely accepting Maryse’s orders, Magnus would have laughed wholeheartedly.

  
Right now, she was deftly cleaning his hand with more brandy, after taking the offending crystal piece out.

  
“There.” She washed her hands, after drying the drops of brandy on Magnus’ clean wound. “It won’t take long till it heals.”

  
“Aren’t you bandaging it?” Magnus lifted the hand to his eyes’ level, looking worriedly at the almost invisible cut. “I could get gangrene!”

  
“Magnus.” Maryse looked at him sternly. “I’ve raised four children. One of them still a very young one. Shadowhunters all of them, at that. You just need to let the wound breathe, and your hand will be fine.”

  
“Will it leave a scar?” Magnus frowned at the thought.

  
“Probably. A large one. But your skin will regenerate, don’t worry. Your beauty won’t be affected.”

  
The former warlock glared at her, sensing her mocking him. Maryse’s smile confirmed that.

  
“Come on, go see Alec.” She said, bending to pick up the fruit fallen on the floor. “I’ll take care of the food you bought.”

  
“Thanks.” The former warlock climbed down the stool carefully and headed out of the kitchen.

  
“Magnus, wait! What happened to your foot?”

  
Shit. Maryse had noticed the limp.

  
“It’s nothing.” He waved his non-injured hand airily. “I stumbled upon a broken street tile and twisted my ankle.”

  
“And did the tile also hit you on the head?”

She tilted her head to one side, eyeing him like the strategist she had always been. Magnus moved his hand to the back of his head. A bump the size of a small egg was clearly showing there.

  
“You should sue the Town Hall. That tile ripped your coat as well.” Alec’s mother got closer and inspected his attire.

  
Magnus sighed again. He hadn’t sighed as much in the three previous centuries as he had done in the three previous days.

  
“It’s nothing, really…”

  
“…Because to me it looks as if someone had tried to attack you.” Maryse was saying, forcing Magnus out of his coat and checking it in detail.

  
Magnus’ shoulders slumped. He didn’t have the strength to deny it anymore.

  
“Look, some kids outside the supermarket were fooling around and they tried to mug me. I…. I didn’t want to hurt them but…”

  
“Magnus, you can’t use magic now. What did you do?” Maryse crossed her arms over her chest, looking as intimidating as when she had been all runed up.

  
Magnus blushed. A view that Maryse would have never believed, if she hadn’t seen him get beet-red.

  
“I… I dropped the bags and… The eggs that I bought might have suffered some damaged, by the way… But I just needed to defend myself!”

  
Maryse nodded encouragingly.

  
“I had this thingy…” Magnus fussed with his clothes, clearly looking for something in his pockets. “Isabelle gave me this pepper spray when they were here visiting Alec last night. She thought that it could be useful, now that I’m… useless.” He extracted the little bottle from his coat inside pocket, his facial expression a mixture between ashamed and shy.

He had never felt so embarrassed.

  
“But they get to you. They hurt you.” She lifted a hand tentatively, and after not getting any rejection from Magnus, stroked the man’s head. “Hm. Just apply some ice on the bump. And take some painkillers for the pain. In a couple of days it will be gone. Now go to see Alec. He must be awake by now.”

  
Magnus nodded, and crawled out of the kitchen, defeated.

  
“Magnus.” Maryse called him out. He turned around to her. “You’ll get used to this. You are doing good so far. Just give yourself time.”

  
He nodded again, incapable of doing anything else, apparently.

  
“How… how do you do it, Maryse? I really thought you didn’t have it in you.” He asked almost inadvertently. “Being anything else than a Shadowhunter, I mean. All your life was built around that…”

  
Maryse smiled sadly.

  
“I’m not going to lie to you, it’s not easy. I’ve been separated from my children, one of them so young that he can’t truly understand why he is been forbidden to see her mom anymore. But, look, Magnus, I’d rather face it, the sooner the better, than weep about it. Luke is helping to look for a suitable job…. Which is not a simple task, since every mundane job has some requisites that I lack of. I keep pushing, anyway. Maybe waiting tables won’t be that hard.” She grinned bravely. “Luke went through this many years ago. He is willing to help us adjusting to our new life, you know. Please don’t hesitate in asking for help. I did. And you surely know how hard that was for my pride. But there’s no place for price in our lives now.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eyes, and smiled to him again.

  
Magnus went to the woman and, unexpectedly, hugged her. Then, without uttering another word, he left the kitchen, leaving alone a surprised and strangely moved Maryse.

 

*****

Magnus stopped briefly at one of the guests’ rooms to check his appearance on one of the mirrors. He washed his hands and brushed down his hair. Maybe he could let his hair grow now. Doing hair spikes without magic took a lot of time.

  
Before entering his bedroom, where his Alexander had been confined until he regained his full strength, Magnus plastered a smile on his face. Grounding his teeth so the pain in his ankle and head wouldn’t show, he opened the door and peeked inside.

  
Alec was lying on his back, apparently asleep, covered by the red silk eiderdown that he liked so much. His fair skin was a bit pale yet, but Catarina had restored his lost blood and closed the stabbing wound. His dark hair was adorably mussed, his lips were pink again. Magnus sighed in delight. Alec always elicited the same warm sensation in his heart and body. He was closing the door again when he heard him mumble:

  
“Magnus?”

  
The former warlock went to him, grinning.  
“Alexander. I thought you were resting. I didn’t want to upset your sleep.”

  
“You never minded to upset my sleep before, when you felt playful at night.” Alec smiled coyly, his eyes still half-laden with drowsiness.

  
Magnus chortled, taken aback.

  
“But those nights, my dear, naughty boy, you didn’t mind to be awaken. At all.” He winked at Alec. The young man was clearly feeling better, if he felt like joking already.

  
But for him, Magnus, joking was an extremely energy-consuming task at the moment.

  
“And those days, you weren’t at the death’s doors either.” He whispered, suddenly sober, his shoulders seemingly weighing a ton.

  
Alec reached out, and Magnus took his hand immediately. His Shadowhunter tried to sit up but a flash of pain crossed through his features, and he had to give up. He looked at the brown-reddish star-shaped scar that marred his chest, annoyed.

  
“Shhh, Alexander, don’t move, darling.”

Magnus was hovering over him at once, anxiously, not giving a single thought about his own pains.

  
“I’m ok, Magnus.” Alec soothed his worries. “You and Catarina did a fine job. The wound is healed.”

  
“But your tissues are still tender. You need to rest, my impacient love.”

  
“I’m tired of resting. I want to be myself again. There’s so much to do…” Alec writhed Magnus’ hand in his.

  
Magnus winced at the words, unwittingly. Also, he winced at the pinch of getting his recently hurt hand pressed up.

  
“What’s this?” Alec interrupted his train of thoughts, noticing a sleek trail of blood oozing from Magnus’ hand.

  
His boyfriend snatched his telltale member away in a rush, hiding it from Alec’s sight.

  
“I broke a cup of wine and cut myself. So clumsy!” He laughed half-heartedly.

  
Alec stared at him, frowning. Something was wrong there.

  
“Magnus, you are the most skilled, elegant, graceful man in the world. There’s not a single clumsy hair in you.”

  
Magnus dismissed the praise with a wave of his hand, smiling coquettishly.

  
“But it’s true, darling. Even the best of warlocks can have a bad day!”

  
Alec stretched his palm out, silently asking for Magnus’ hand again.

  
Magnus couldn’t deny him anything. Not after almost losing him forever. He put his hand on Alec’s, almost bashful in front of his wondering glance.

  
The warrior cleaned with a finger a drop of blood, his somewhat drug-dazed mind (Cat was adamant that it was the only way to get him rest enough) working the best that it could to fit the puzzle pieces.

  
“But why didn’t you heal yourself?” He insisted on.

  
His boyfriend shrugged nonchalantly.

  
“I thought that I could show my solidarity with you by healing without using magic. As any mundane would do. Just to feel what it feels like.”

  
Alec kept quiet, waiting for him to keep talking. But Magnus stared stubbornly at the comforter, at their joined hands. Everywhere but him.

  
“Magnus.”

  
“Yes, darling? Do you need anything?” His lover moved to stand up, ready to search for whatever Alec wished. To escape from that inquiring gaze.

  
“Look at me, Magnus.”

  
He complied, but kept his face a smiling mask, and his eyes fixed on Alec’s nose, not his eyes.

  
“Please.” Alec begged, squeezing lightly the bronze hand that he still held in his own.

  
Alec was a proud, driven, firm warrior. But he never hesitated in pleading to those he loved.

  
Magnus lifted his dark eyes slowly to the hazel ones that he loved so much. Hazel eyes that bore into his with a resolute expression.

  
“What are you keeping from me, Magnus?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've planned posting short chapters, as to encourage myself to keep writing. It won't be a long story though.
> 
> So please, if you, my fabulous readers, like this little work and want me to finish it, let me know, here with your comments, or in Twitter, tagging #MagicalMagnusFic, or me @myramerida.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! <333


End file.
